


Proposals And Timing

by MaliceManaged



Series: The Wonderful(ish) Adventures Of Loki & Neeve [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU Where Frigga's Alive, And I Fucking Said So, Because Frigga's A BAMF, Crowding Tactics, Established Relationship, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Interrogation of sorts, Loki - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Mutant OFC, OFC - Freeform, OFC and Sif should not be left alone, Poor Loki, Some angst, Sorry Not Sorry, They Just Won't Leave Him Alone, shit happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:35:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki gets bombarded with questions about his apparent reluctance to propose to Neeve, until finally he snaps and asks her in front of everyone, with surprising results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proposals

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two-part thingie, I just haven't finished the other half yet. Which is kind of ironic, 'cause I started writing it first.... I'll just.. keep working on it...

    There were days when Loki truly suspected life was just out to get him. Today was turning out to be one of those days.

 

    All he’d wanted was some peace and quiet; so, naturally, Thor had picked that day, of all days, to drag him to the training grounds with the Warriors Three for some sparring. At first, Loki wondered if his brother was truly that oblivious to his clear lack of desire to be around any of them, then he thought perhaps Thor _was_ aware and was doing it on purpose just to annoy him; the true reason, however, came to light amidst a lull in their matches, and frankly, he wished it had been either of his former conclusions.

 

    “Brother, you and Neeve; you are... doing well, yes?” Thor asked as he, Loki, and Fandral sat around, the latter of whom was only vaguely paying attention to his other two fellow warriors still in the arena.

 

    “Of course,” Loki replied, then added in a somewhat defensive tone, “Why wouldn’t we be?”

 

    “Well, it’s only, you’ve been together for some time, and...” Thor ventured.

 

    “And what?” Loki asked in growing irritation, not liking where this conversation was heading.

 

    “Well, I merely wonder why you’ve not asked for her hand,” Thor inquired bluntly.

 

   Loki blinked, opening his mouth then closing it, then he looked away with a scoff. “Why the sudden interest in my love life?”

 

    “You’re my brother, Loki, of course I care,” Thor replied, earning a glare from the younger prince.

 

    “Since when?” Loki challenged.

 

    Before Thor could reply, Volstagg and Hogun joined them, having finished their match, the former saying, to the apparent agreement of the others, “I must confess I've been curious about that myself.”

 

    “What business is that of yours? What business is that of any of yours?” Loki snapped as he stood, not liking in the slightest being ambushed that way, “I’ll ask her if and whenever I damn well please.”

 

    “Well, I would act soon if I were you, lest someone else swoop in and steal her attentions,” Fandral said with a laugh, earning an elbow to the ribs from Thor.

 

    “What, someone like you? Hardly reason to worry; she detests you,” Loki replied coolly before turning and storming out of the place, sparing a thought to plan how to get back at the warrior for his remark.

 

****

 

    Later in the day, as Loki was once again attempting to get to the library, he noticed someone was following him. A quick glance to his side as they caught up to him revealed the person to be Sif, and Loki groaned internally, not sure he wanted to know what she could possibly want.

 

    “I see your mortal is not with you,” Sif began.

 

    “I see your powers of observation have not diminished,” Loki retorted sarcastically.

 

    “Again,” Sif added meaningfully.

 

    “I was not aware we were meant to suffocate each other with attention on a daily basis,” Loki replied.

 

    “That makes three days in a row this week alone,” Sif continued.

 

    At that, Loki stopped walking and rounded on Sif, crossing his arms over his chest. “What exactly is your point, Sif?”

 

    In response, Sif mimicked his pose, looked him straight in the eyes and bluntly asked, “Are you ever going to ask that girl to marry you?”

 

    A look of surprised flashed in Loki’s face, and he guardedly responded, “What is that to you?”

 

    Sif shrugged. “Well, are you?”

 

    “How I handle my relationships is none of your concern,” Loki snapped then turned and continued walking towards the library, thankfully unfollowed.

 

****

 

    He’d only been reading for a few hours, when Loki was next interrupted, this time by his mother. She’d asked to join him and he’d agreed, figuring she at least would pleasant company, which she was.

 

    At first.

 

    “Loki; may I ask you something?” Frigga asked, breaking the peaceful silence and receiving a somewhat distracted hum in response, before she continued, “Is everything alright between you and Neeve?”

 

    Loki snapped his book shut and buried his face in his hand with an exasperated sigh, groaning, “Not you as well.”

 

    “I’m only concerned. You spend so much time apart lately,” Frigga explained.

 

    “Mother, I can assure you, we are every bit as in love as we’ve ever been,” Loki replied, wondering what the Hel was with everyone today.

 

    “If you say so,” Frigga said, “Though that does bring me to another question.”

 

    “Let me guess; it’s something along the lines of, ‘Why haven’t you proposed to her yet’, is that right?” Loki asked in annoyance. The expression on his mother’s face told him he’d hit the mark perfectly, and he cried out, “Why is everyone so insistent? What possible difference could it make in your lives if I ask Nee to marry me or not?”

 

    “Loki, my only concern is for your happiness,” Frigga assured.

 

    “Well, this... this _interrogation_ is not helping that in the slightest,” Loki snapped and tossing the book in his hand aside, standing up and, once again, storming out of the room, intending to spend the rest of the evening locked in his chambers away from everyone else.

 

   At least, that _was_ the plan; until he heard the voice of the last person he wanted to deal with calling for him and he stopped his quick strides short, closing his eyes in seething irritation and clenching his hands into tight fists.

 

    “By the Norns,” He hissed under his breath, then spun on his heel to face his... Well, Odin. Taking a subtle, deep breath, he relaxed his fists and asked shortly, “What?”

 

    “A word, if you don’t mind,” Odin replied, choosing to ignore Loki’s tone, before turning and walking away, clearly expecting Loki to follow.

 

    “As if it would matter if I did,” Loki scoffed, reluctantly joining alongside the Allfather.

 

    They walked in silence for a time, until they reached the dining hall, which was where Odin finally spoke, “My concern is about the midgardian.”

 

    “Norns; _why?_ Why is this suddenly so important?” Loki asked loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, which happened to include the other subject of everyone’s interest, who was sitting on an empty spot on the table surrounded by Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three, talking to Hogun.

 

    “Loki, I have been lenient in allowing the mortal to stay, but if you have no intention of taking the relationship seriously...” Odin began, before Loki interrupted him, just as Frigga entered the room.

 

    “Fine! _Fine_ ; since you’re all so obsessed,” Loki said angrily, storming over towards Neeve. As soon as he was about a foot away from her, Loki asked, “Nee?”

 

    “Yeah?” The red-head responded curiously.

 

    “Will you marry me?” Loki asked, much to the surprise of the rest of them.

 

    Almost immediately, Neeve replied with a simple, “Nope.”

 

    “There! _Satisfied!?_ ” Loki cried out, glaring at everyone else before turning and leaving the room, knuckles turned white with how tightly his fists were clenched, leaving a very confused Neeve staring after him.

 

    A moment after he’d left, Neeve looked at the people around her, most of whom selected to avoid her direct gaze. “What the Hel have you all been saying to him?”

 

****

 

    It was a week before anyone saw Loki again, and it was only because Neeve had told him she would be in the training grounds sparring with Sif and he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them to go easy on each other... But he didn’t. At all.

 

    So there he was, out of the sanctuary of his chambers, surrounded by most of the people he was very much still miffed at, watching Neeve and Sif’s increasingly reckless match from the side-lines.

 

    After a while, Thor approached him and asked cautiously, “Would I be correct in assuming you’re still upset, brother?”

 

    Loki said nothing, merely spared him a quick glare and turned his attention back to the arena.

 

    “I believe that’s a ‘yes’,” Volstagg commented from a little farther away.

 

    “Loki, we had no idea Neeve was not interested in marriage,” Thor tried again.

 

    “Because of course any fault simply _had_ to be mine,” Loki replied coldly.

 

    “That is not what I...” Thor began then sighed and elected to sit back down and give his brother some space.

 

    After a while, Fandral spoke up, “And you are not the least bit worried she doesn’t wish to marry you?”

 

    “No,” Loki replied, turning to them, “I know where we stand, and I accept her reasons; that’s all that matters.”

 

    Down in the arena, the ‘sparring’ match between the two women had been slowly gaining fury, until finally Sif knocked the sword from Neeve’s grasp and swung her own blade down towards her opponent’s head, seemingly lost in the moment. Neeve, equally as involved, opted for stopping Sif’s sword with her bare hand, only just remembering to use her power to keep the blade from slicing clean through, then rushed forward, bashing with her shield twice; the first strike knocking Sif’s own shield out of the way and the second connecting harshly with her face, breaking her nose and knocking her to the ground.

 

    In the shocked silence that followed, it was very clearly heard by all when Loki hissed in exasperation, “Oh, for _fuck’s sake.”_


	2. Timing Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neeve's reasons for avoiding marriage come to light, as well as a few other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this was a two part thing, but this chapter turned out to be a bit longer than I intended, so I decided to split it into two. I'm almost done with the second half of it, though, so you won't be waiting long.

    Neeve was not happy.

 

    Not in the slightest.

 

    In fact, she was very decidedly irritated at the very least; a fact evidenced by the scowl that graced her full lips.

 

    In her hands she held the source of her discontent: a letter, printed out of an email addressed to her by a mutual friend of Thor’s and hers on Midgard then delivered to her by the Thunderer himself.

 

    Contained in the letter was a very simple, straightforward request; an invitation to return to her birth-realm for a social event hosted by her mother, followed by the date, time and location of said event. Nothing more. Nothing less.

 

    Certainly nothing that would warrant the slight tremor shaking the room she was in by the unconscious use of her power, but for the fact that Neeve couldn’t stand her mother. It went far beyond her general distaste for the shallow, wasteful snobs of the upper class; she truly hated the woman.

 

    So immersed was the red-head in reading and re-reading the piece of paper in her hands, that she failed to notice she was no longer alone in the room as Loki and his mother walked in, deep in some discussion that died out once they took in the shaking and now slightly floating furniture. Loki frowned at the source of the anomaly, whose eyes were currently furiously swirling with different hues of red, then began walking over to her before thinking better of it and deciding it would probably be safer to get her attention from where he was. Which he accomplished by conjuring up a ball of light and tossing it at her feet, causing it to explode with a loud crack, which startled the young woman and thus made her drop all she was by then rather highly levitating back onto the floor with a crash.

 

    The stunt earned the trickster a disapproving stare from Frigga and a death glare from Neeve, both of which he dismissed with an easy smirk.

 

    “Loki, this is a really bad time to piss me off,” Neeve growled in warning.

 

    “You say that as though there is ever a _good_ time for it,” Loki replied with a laugh.

 

    Neeve clenched her fists tightly and further narrowed her now deeply crimson eyes, inadvertently causing the collar of Loki’s shirt to tighten around his neck, effectively silencing his laughter by slowly choking the life out of him.

 

    “Neeve!” Frigga called to her, making her realize what she was doing, after which she quickly released Loki, who doubled over slightly, coughing and gasping for breath. The queen spared a moment to ensure her son was alright then swiftly walked over to Neeve, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and sitting them both down on the seat the younger had vacated when she’d started. In a soothing voice laced with clear concern, she asked, “Now tell me, whatever would bring about such outbursts? It’s very unlike you to so lose control.”

 

    Instead of speaking, Neeve’s answer came in the form of her glaring at the letter she had dropped. It had landed halfway between her feet and Loki’s, and so latter walked over and picked it up, reading it quickly then looking up at his lover with a slightly puzzled expression.

 

    “An invitation from your mother? You nearly kill me over this?” He asked in a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Neeve glared at him again and held her hand out for the letter, using her power to rip it from his grasp with enough force to leave a paper-cut on his palm. Loki hissed slightly in pain, then returned her glare with his own, crossing his arms over his chest, and adding with a scoff, “I understand that you don’t like the woman, but this is ridiculous.”

 

    “You understand nothing, Friggason,” Neeve spat back, crumpling the letter slightly in her hand.

 

    “That is quite enough, the both of you; this bickering will solve nothing,” Frigga interjected sternly.

 

    The pair glared at each other for a few moments longer then sighed and mumbled apologies for the queen, feeling very much like scolded children.

 

    “Better. Now, Neeve, this letter. You’ve mentioned to me not getting along with your mother, but is it truly so bad that she send you an invitation for whatever occasion?” She asked; taking the younger’s hand that clenched around the letter and smoothing it out gently.

 

    In a steadily rising voice, Neeve huffed angrily, “It is when she knows all too well I want nothing to do with her, much less one of her pretentious parties. And that’s not even the worst part!”

 

    “Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Loki chimed in, moving to stand directly in front of her.

 

    Neeve looked up at him with a deadpan expression, to which he responded with a playful smile, causing her to roll her eyes, a corner of her lips turning up ever so slightly into a smile before fading away as she lifted the letter towards him.

 

    “Did you read the date?” She asked; her tone one of anger with a hint of sorrow.

 

    Loki took the letter and read it over more carefully, realization colouring his expression then looked back at Neeve sympathetically. “I see...” He said softly then sat next to her and took her hand in his, entwining their fingers.

 

    “I have yet to; why is the date so significant?” Frigga asked, sensing the importance of whatever detail she was missing.

 

    At length, with a sombre longing overtaking her previous anger, Neeve replied, “... It’s the anniversary of what would have been my wedding day four years ago.”

 

    “I had no idea you were formerly betrothed. What happened?” The queen asked carefully, having guessed what the answer might be.

 

    “She died,” Neeve replied quietly, looking down at her lap. It took only a moment as the information sunk in and Frigga pulled the red-head to her in a warm hug, murmuring her condolences before releasing her, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as if by instinct. Neeve sniffled a bit and said, “It’s fine; we were on borrowed time anyway.”

 

    “What do you mean?” Frigga asked.

 

    “She was sick. Terminal,” Neeve explained, “We always knew I was gonna outlive her.”

 

    “I see,” Frigga replied then added, “Well, it’s certainly in very poor taste of your mother to expect you to join in whatever revelry she is hosting.”

 

    Neeve scoffed, “I wouldn’t expect her to care; that bitch is incapable of seeing beyond the bubble of her own existence. And she never liked Moira.”

 

    “All the same...” Frigga left off, taking Neeve’s free hand in hers and giving it a sympathetic pat.

 

    The moment of silence that followed was broken when Loki spoke up suddenly, “I think we should go.”

 

    Neeve looked up at him, her expression a cross between disbelief and curiosity. “Why?”

 

    “Why, so that I may meet her, of course. Is that not how it is done?” Loki replied with well-feigned confusion.

 

    For a moment, both Neeve and Frigga eyed him curiously then the former’s face slowly broke into a delighted, mischievous grin as she realized the implication behind the words and she said, “And then people wonder why I love you.”

 

****

 

   Some hours later, Neeve had parted ways with Loki and Frigga and began heading to the palace healers to have them tend to her hand, which was currently bandaged from the injury her spar with Sif the day prior had caused. As she walked, she met the warrior woman herself walking in her direction from a hall to her left, and they stopped for a moment to acknowledge each other with a nod before continuing on their way.

 

    “How is your hand?” Sif asked in friendly jest.

 

   “How’s your nose?” Neeve countered just as playfully.

 

    Sif erupted in laughter. “Fair enough.”

 

    “Not sure Loki would agree,” Neeve laughed.

 

    “Neither would Thor,” Sif added, “But that’s their problem, not ours.”

 

    “True enough,” Neeve agreed, then elbowed Sif’s ribs lightly, “But, hey; maybe someday they’ll learn, eh?”

 

    “I wouldn’t count on it,” Sif replied with a laugh. The pair walked in silence for a while, before she spoke again as they entered the healers’ hall, “You know, several of the warriors are wondering just how a human could possess that much strength. I was tempted to point out the advantage your power gives you, but then I thought you’d prefer to keep them guessing.”

 

    Neeve let out a laugh as she let the healer unbandage her hand and get to work. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

 

    “Drink with me, then,” Sif offered, “I’ve been meaning to speak with you in any case.”

 

    “Oh? Should I be worried?” Neeve asked with an easy smile.

 

    Sif returned the smile with a wider one and replied, “That depends entirely on you.”

 

    Neeve laughed then shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

 

****

 

    It was very late in the evening when Neeve stumbled into Loki’s chambers, assisted by a palace guard, as it was blatantly obvious she was quite drunk. With a sigh, the younger prince carefully picked the red-head up, dismissing the guard with a nod, and carried her into bed, resisting the urge to just toss her onto it.

 

    “Last I heard; you were seen with Sif,” Loki began as he undressed her, “Dare I ask?”

 

    “Just a little girl talk, mo chroi,” Neeve replied with a small giggle, her state of inebriation slurring her words some and making her accent thicker than usual, “Nothing to worry your pretty head about.”

 

    Loki eyed her sceptically as he tossed the dress in his hands aside to be dealt with later and responded, “I highly doubt anything you and Sif discuss is not something I should worry about.”

 

    Neeve laughed and attempted to sit up, failing miserably, which caused her to laugh harder, then settled on extending her arm towards Loki and beckoning him over. Loki rolled his eyes then climbed in next to her, laying on his side facing her.

 

    “She just wanted to apologize about last week over a drink,” Neeve said, moving closer to Loki and snuggling comfortably against his chest, “’Course, then ‘a drink’ became ‘a round’, and then, well...”

 

    “Hm, well, you should know better than to drink with Sif by now,” Loki said, running a hand through her hair.

 

    “Oh, I know; just chose to not care,” Neeve replied with a laugh.

 

    “You’ll care in the morning,” Loki remarked, “Now sleep.”

 

    “Sleep? And here I had something else in mind,” Neeve purred, her hand travelling down his abdomen, causing a slight shiver to run through him and a sharp intake of breath as it reached its destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'mo chroi' (pronounced 'muh kree') is irish for 'my heart'. Or at least that's what the internet told me. I unfortunately don't speak irish, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.


	3. Timing Pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions lead to more discussions that lead to some decision making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the second half of the second chapter. This whole thing turned out to be over 3,300 words. That's, like, 3,000 more than I was expecting. >_>

    Several days later; Neeve stood inside the dome at the end of the Bifrost with Loki by her side, Heimdall standing by ready to open the bridge to Midgard, hesitating. Much as she loved going back to her first home from time to time, she didn’t know if wanted to deal with being around her mother on that particular day. Even if she wasn’t going to be alone, which Loki reminded her of with a reassuring squeeze of their clasped hands. Still, the thought of having to see that woman’s face was in no way a pleasant one. For so many, many reasons.

 

    “Nee, do I have to drag you there?” Loki asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

 

    “Now _that_ would turn a few heads,” Neeve replied with a somewhat strained smirk, earning a slight laugh.

 

    Loki moved to face Neeve fully and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. “Do not think too much on it; we’ll go, ruin your mother’s day then move on to what really matters.”

 

    Neeve looked down at the floor in thought, biting her bottom lip, then sighed and looked back at Loki and shrugged. “Eh, what the hel; let’s do it.”

 

    Loki flashed her a grin, then looked over to the watchman and nodded sharply in signal. Heimdall simply activated the portal and sent the two on their way without a word. Once on Midgard, some five minutes away from their destination, the green mist of Loki’s magick enveloped him for a moment, before the pair entwined their hands again and walked the rest of the way to the party.

 

    As soon as the couple walked into the building, heads began turning their way, but neither of them paid it any mind, even as the whispering started. It didn’t take long for Neeve to spot her mother, and from there begin making their way to her, though the closer they got, the tighter she gripped Loki’s hand. Some two feet away, Neeve’s mother finally noticed them and turned towards her daughter with a plastic smile that faltered significantly when her eyes fell on Loki. She excused herself from the people she was talking to and approached her new guests the rest of the way.

 

    “Neeve; I didn’t realize you’d have... _company.”_ Neeve’s mother said with a tone of such clearly faked politeness, it took all of Loki’s resolve to keep any eye-rolling from occurring.

 

    “The invitation mentioned a ‘plus one’, so I figured you wouldn’t mind,” Neeve replied, echoing her mother’s tone.

 

    “No, of course not; any... _friend..._ of my daughter’s is welcome,” Her mother replied with a nervous laugh, eyeing the people closest to them somewhat subtly, “You should introduce us though; I don’t think we’ve met.”

 

    “But of course. Mother, this is my _partner_ , Loki,” Neeve said meaningfully, gesturing to the tall woman in an elegant, if slightly risqué, gown of green and black with golden accents whose hand she held in her own.

 

****

 

    “I wonder if she’ll disown me this time,” Neeve mused as she and Loki left her mother’s party sometime later.

 

    Loki shrugged. “At the very least I think it’s safe to say you won’t have to worry about future invitations.”

 

    Neeve laughed then wrapped an arm around Loki’s waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for this. It was so worth having to be near her just for the look on her face.”

 

    “Any time, love,” Loki replied, hugging the red-head close and placing a loving kiss on her temple.

 

    After some time of walking in comfortable silence, they reached their destination, a very specific headstone in a small graveyard behind a modest church. Neeve knelt on the ground and placed a hand upon the stone, unshed tears collecting in her eyes despite her best efforts.

 

    “There’s no shame in missing her,” Loki said softly, kneeling beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

    At that, the floodgates opened and Neeve began to sob. Loki simply wrapped his arms around her and let her cry herself out on his shoulder. When her tears finally ceased, Neeve turned over to face her late fiancée’s headstone again and replaced her hand on its surface.

 

    “You’ll always be mine, a ghra mo chroi; no matter what,” She whispered.

 

    The pair sat there silently for a few moments longer, then Neeve stood and Loki followed, receiving a tight hug the moment he was on his feet which he gladly returned; afterwards making their way to a clearing and calling for Heimdall to bring them home.

 

****

 

   The following week found Neeve enjoying dinner with the royal family, minus Odin, which was just as well as far as Loki was concerned, with Thor recounting parts of his last visit to Midgard. After a lull in the conversation, Frigga turned to Neeve and caught her attention.

 

    “Neeve, dear, I have been wondering something,” She began.

 

    “Uh-oh,” Neeve responded, earning a laugh from them all.

 

    “I understand your position on marriage and I respect it,” Frigga continued, “But I’m rather curious about your opinion on children.”

 

    At that, Loki choked on the drink he had been taking, and he looked at his mother in shock as he coughed and tried to catch his breath.

 

    “Ah, I think that’s a conversation first to be had in private,” Neeve replied, stifling a giggle as Thor ‘gently’ patted Loki’s back in an attempt to help.

 

    “Apologies; I thought you’d already discussed it,” Frigga said, eyeing her youngest with concern and a hint of amusement.

 

    “Well, we have not,” Loki responded slightly breathlessly, batting Thor away in annoyance.

 

    “Perhaps you should,” Frigga advised, before the subject was decidedly dropped.

 

****

 

    Later that night, Loki lay in bed with Neeve curled up next to him sleeping peacefully, wide awake and staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts running a mile a minute. His mother’s question had been at the forefront of his mind all evening, and the acknowledgement that it was, in fact, something that needed to be discussed left him with conflicting emotions; part of him wanted to know what Neeve’s answer would be, the rest of him feared it either way.

 

    “Lokes; could you maybe _not_ suffocate me?” Neeve groaned sleepily, fidgeting in his grasp that he hadn’t realized he was tightening.

 

    He relaxed his hold and muttered, “Sorry.”

 

    Neeve looked up at him then sighed and shifted so that her top half was lying on Loki’s, propping herself up on her forearms to look at him properly.

 

    “What’s eating you?” She asked simply. Loki stared back up at the ceiling and shrugged. Neeve let her head drop onto Loki’s chest with a sigh and muttered, “I am not awake enough for this.”

 

    “Then sleep,” Loki huffed.

 

    Neeve lifted her head back up, crossed her arms over Loki’s chest and rested her chin on them, then proceeded to stare at him until he reluctantly shifted his gaze onto her currently yellow eyes.

 

    “What’s wrong?” Neeve asked again.

 

    Loki sighed and traced his fingers up her spine, eliciting a slight shiver from her that he smiled briefly at. “Mother’s question at dinner; it refuses to leave my mind.”

 

    “Ah. In that case, maybe we _should_ talk about it sooner than later,” Neeve suggested.

 

    Loki nodded hesitantly, then quietly asked, “ _Do_ you... want children?”

 

    “Do _you?_ ” Neeve asked back.

 

    “I tried that before, remember? It didn’t exactly end well,” He replied rather bitterly, looking away with pain and sadness in his eyes. Then he looked back at her affectionately and added resolutely, “But I wouldn't dream of depriving you of the chance if that is what you want.”

 

    Neeve smiled lovingly at him then leaned forward to kiss his lips. After parting, she settled with her head tucked under his chin and traced his shoulder blade with her fingers.

 

    “I did want kids eventually,” Neeve said after a while, “When I found the right person to have them with.”

 

    Loki hummed in response, lightly rubbing circles on her back. “And have you?”

 

    “I think I have,” Neeve replied, placing a light kiss on his collarbone.

 

    “It’s settled, then,” Loki said, a hint of a tremor in his voice betraying his worry.

 

    Neeve sighed inwardly then shifted in his arms again, kissing her way up his neck and to his lips and resting her forearms on either side of his head so she could look him fully in the eyes.

 

    “It’s gonna be okay,” She said gently but firmly.

 

    Loki smiled slightly. “I admire your conviction.”

 

    “Well, I _am_ right,” Neeve replied with a shrug, “And besides, you know what they say; third time’s the charm.”

 

    Loki broke into laughter then wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rolled them over so that he was on top, capturing her lips with his own in a passionate kiss that quickly became much, much more.

 

    “I love you,” Loki said softly afterwards, finally finding himself in a peaceful enough state to try falling asleep.

 

    “Of course you do, I’m adorable,” Neeve murmured back, earning a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'a ghra mo chroi' (pronounced 'ah graw muh kree') is irish for 'love of my heart'. Again, this is according to the internet, so if I'm wrong, do tell.


End file.
